What Happens on Tour (Stays on Tour)
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: When Regulus is working as a roadie for his brother's band, he doesn't expect to start harbouring a 'thing' for the lead guitarist. He especially doesn't expect anything to happen. But what happens on tour...SMUT FOR YOUR NERVES, YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED. Written for Abby xo


**Written for:**

Slash September: James

Drabble Game Request: James/Regulus

Assignment #4/History of Magic Task #3: Write a Rockstar!AU

Writing Club/Character Appreciation: (features) Messy Hair

Writing Club/Dark Lady: (colour) Blood Red

 **Word Count:** 3,790

* * *

 _Written for Abby (Cookies and Ink)_

* * *

oOo

Regulus groaned as he lugged yet another enormous guitar amp into the grimy pub that the Marauders were playing at that night. It was raining heavily, and just a few trips on and off the tour bus had left him soaked through to the skin.

This manual labour wasn't what he'd had in mind when he asked Sirius if he could get him a job. He'd expected something a little more civilised, perhaps a managerial position within the band. "God knows they could use it," he muttered to himself as he dumped the amp backstage. The pub was pretty empty at the minute as it was only early, but Sirius already had James in a headlock. They barely managed to get to gigs on time, let alone actually perform them.

It surprised Regulus to no end that the band were actually gaining interest and notoriety. They hardly practiced their songs on the few times that Sirius wrote anything worth singing, and whenever they had practice sessions they spent most of the time drinking warm beer and laughing.

Regulus ought to know—they practiced in the garage of the house that Sirius and Regulus shared rent in, and Regulus rarely heard any actual music being played.

Regulus wiped his forehead on his sleeve as he peered through the backstage door, where he could see the bar and main area of the pub. The owners of the pub had pushed all the tables and chairs around the walls of the building to make space for people to stand in the middle, and quite a few people had gathered while Regulus had been resting backstage. Most of the new arrivals were female—young, giggling girls wearing whatever pieces of 'alternative' clothing they could find in their wardrobes, and pushing their long fringes out of their faces. Regulus smirked as he thought about the effort they'd put into selecting their coloured fishnet tights and slim-fitting vest tops, all with the intention of getting the attention of the band members. There wasn't much chance of that.

Sirius barely noticed the girls who came to pine over him. He had been in a relationship with Remus, who played drums, for as long as they'd been old enough to realise they were attracted to each other. When Sirius sang, he wasn't really singing to the crowd that gathered—he would twist and turn and point at Remus, who would grin back at him through the cymbals, his face flushed.

Peter was far too obsessed with being like Sirius and James to pay any attention to any of the girls who came, though Regulus doubted that Peter was the favourite anyway. He was the shortest and the chubbiest, and was far too shy to try to act out like the others did. Sirius and James pranced about the stage, seizing all of the attention, and even though Remus was confined to his seat on the drums at the back of stage, he still made a show out of what he did. Peter hung back nervously, slapping the strings of his bass guitar and trying to look like he knew what he was doing.

As for James...Regulus sighed, somewhat wistfully. It was hard to tell what James wanted. He certainly lapped up the attention of the girls (and boys) that came to watch him play—sometimes he would hang backstage and buy them drinks and let them dote over him, and Regulus knew that he'd taken more than a few back onto the tour bus. But as far as Regulus was concerned, James' main love was for his guitar.

It was a blood red, metallic six-string Gibson, and he treasured it with his life. He never let anyone carry it into the venues, and he kept it locked safely in an expensive guitar case. If there was enough room on the bunks, James would probably keep it in bed with him.

Sirius didn't hold the same attachment for his guitars. Whereas James had bought his Gibson some two years ago, and still treat it as if it were new, constantly polishing it and changing the strings, Sirius seemed to fly through his. He played guitar whilst he sang, so he didn't really use his as much as James did, but he went through them quick enough.

Sirius went through phases and whims, always looking online at the latest guitar and buying it before he'd even fully made up his mind. His current favourite (one amidst the twelve he currently owned) was a thinline, limited edition Fender, emblazoned with orange and black tiger stripes. Despite it costing some sixteen-hundred pounds, Sirius flung it around his body by the strap during gigs and rarely carried it in the case it came in.

Regulus had seen the way James's eyeballs rolled in horror everytime Sirius jeopardised the life of that guitar.

"Hey." A voice suddenly broke Regulus's train of thought. He looked up into James's grinning face, and felt a sudden surge of heat rise in his cheeks. "What're you thinking about?"

"Guitars," Regulus answered honestly, folding his arms over his chest. "And how Sirius is probably going to be buying a new one tomorrow, judging by the state of that strap." Regulus nodded onto the stage, where Sirius was adjusting the strap of his Fender. The seam was very thin on one side. If he did his trick of flipping the guitar around his body, it would almost definitely snap.

James raised his eyebrows when he noticed. "It'll serve him right. Maybe then he'll learn to start treating his guitars better."

Regulus met James's eye and they both laughed. Sirius would splash out on a new guitar within the hour of the last one breaking, and have forgotten all about it the next day.

"Are you going to watch us play tonight?" James asked, running a hand through his messy hair. "You sloped off the last two nights."

"It was getting intolerable sitting in the middle of a throng of screaming girls," Regulus muttered. "I can hang backstage at this venue, so yeah. I'll be watching you play."

James grinned. "Glad to hear." He paused, and glanced out into the bar area. "Though I didn't think you'd mind being stuck in the middle of a bunch of girls."

The heat swelled in Regulus's face again as he felt James's hazel gaze burning into him, waiting for the answer to his unspoken question. "I don't care much for girls," he said carefully.

James's grin only grew wider.

oOo

The gig had probably been one of the best that Regulus had ever watched.

The venue was packed by the time the Marauders went on, which was after two support acts. Sirius was already drunk on four cans of Carling by the time they went on, so he was even more manic than usual, but it only seemed to ignite the crowd more. They played a whole set of their own songs, then finished off with something by the Sex Pistols that Regulus couldn't understand the words to (or maybe just Sirius was so drunk that he was just screaming along to the music). The crowd erupted into screams when Sirius flung his guitar around his bare, sweating torso, and Regulus cringed as the strap snapped, as he'd predicted it would.

Luckily Sirius caught the guitar by the neck, but he wasn't finished. Apparently he was already bored of the expensive Fender, because he brought the guitar over his head, still clutching it by the neck, and smashed it down onto the stage, while James finished his solo.

When the tiger print guitar was wrecked, Regulus's brother turned to face the rest of the band, stuck his hands in the air and threw himself backwards onto the audience, who caught him and surfed him across to the bar.

"Thank you very much!" James shouted through Sirius's abandoned microphone, and he picked up the ruins of the guitar and led the rest of the band offstage.

"That was intense," Remus said with a laugh. "That guitar had to be about...fourteen hundred pounds?"

"Sixteen hundred, I think," Regulus replied.

"Ouch," said James, wincing. "I'm going to need another couple of drinks before I can look at this poor thing again. But first…" he held his blood-red Gibson out to Regulus, grinning. "Do you mind putting this baby away for me, and taking her back to the bus?"

Regulus raised an eyebrow—and so did Peter and Remus.

"You're going to let someone _else_ touch your Gibson?" Remus interrupted, his face a picture of shock.

"You wouldn't let me touch it when I wanted to have a go on lead," Peter grumbled.

"That's because you have disgusting hands and I've seen you pick your arse and not wash them after," snapped James. He reached out and took one of Regulus's hands. "Regulus, however, has beautiful hands, and I'm _very_ interested in them."

Regulus flushed. "I'm truly honoured. Of course I'll take it back to the bus." He gingerly took the guitar from James, who was beginning to look like he regretted the decision.

"Meet me back at the bar when you're back," James said with a wink.

Remus gave him a cautious look. "Careful, Prongs," he said, a shadow of a smirk on his face. "You know how Sirius feels about people flirting with his baby brother."

Regulus was already moving away from them to put James's guitar back in it's case, but he was still able to hear James reply. "Sirius is way too drunk to care about who flirts with his brother tonight."

oOo

"What do you want to drink?" James asked for the third time since Regulus got back to the bar. He'd barely finished the last beer that James had bought him, and it was going down slow. He didn't really like the bitter taste of the drink, and couldn't understand how the other band members threw it back like it was lemonade.

"Doesn't this place sell any wine?" Regulus asked, trying to peer over the bar. It didn't look promising from where he was sitting - all he could see behind the scowling bartender were bottles of cider and beer.

"Of course," James replied sarcastically. "Shall I ask the barkeep to put on a classical playlist, too?"

"I see your point," Regulus admitted. He held his half-empty bottle out to the bartender. "Can you make me shandy from this, please?"

James raised an eyebrow, though he didn't say anything. "I've drunk enough," Regulus replied to James's unspoken comment. "The rest of you are hammered. Who's going to look after the band tomorrow when you're all hungover? Who's going to run to the shop for Anadin and Fanta Orange?"

"I'm not that drunk," James leaned on his elbow, moving slightly closer to Regulus. "I can handle my drink a lot better than your brother."

Regulus looked over at Sirius, who was hanging onto his boyfriend's neck in the middle of the pub, trying to place a sloppy kiss on his lips. Remus, despite looking slightly embarrassed at the public display of affection, was grinning into Sirius's mouth. He looped his arms around Sirius's waist.

"You should get him back to the bus," James called over, nodding at Sirius. Sirius looked up through half-lidded eyes, noticing that James was sat with Regulus.

"I hope you're not putting your moves on my brother," he slurred. "Regulus is an _innocent, precious, delicate_ flower, and I won't let him be tainted."

Regulus flushed. "James and I are just talking, but I can look after myself, brother."

"They always start off just talking," Sirius pointed a wobbly finger at James. "Then he's got them in his bunk." He belched suddenly, choking on the last part of his sentence, and clutched at Remus's shirt. "Anyway. Get me back to the bus, Moony. I'm ready to fu—"

Regulus didn't hear what Sirius was ready to do to Remus, as Remus managed to half-drag him out of the pub too quickly, but he was pretty glad for it. He'd heard what Sirius and Remus got up to in the bedroom next to his _many_ times, not to mention in Sirius's nearby bunk on the bus. He absently hoped that Sirius would be too drunk to get down to business with Remus by the time they were in their bunks, just to give Regulus's ears a break.

He turned back to James, his face still glowing. "Sirius embarrasses me so much," he confessed, taking a deep swig from the shandy that the bartender had just put in front of him. "I can't believe he'd think you were putting the moves on me."

James grinned. "What if I was?"

Regulus arched an eyebrow over the rim of his glass. "Please. There are plenty of girls in here who are dying for just ten minutes with the famous James Potter. They'd be easy to get back in the bus."

"See, the thing is, I'm not too fussed about getting girls or boys to come back to my bunk," James told Regulus. "I know I do that, but it's just a front. I'm only interested in getting _one_ person back to my bunk, or just to talk to me in general. I guess I thought that if I was showing everyone else attention and flirting and stuff, he might notice and show an interest in me."

"That would probably be the _opposite_ way to get his attention, I would think."

"So you know who I'm talking about?"

"Well, I hope so, or I'm about to be even more embarrassed," Regulus rested his chin on his hand.

James moved slightly closer, until Regulus could smell the beer and cigarette smoke on his breath. His eyes flickered down to James's lips, then back up to his eyes, and he straightened up. Before he could try to say anything else, James had closed the gap between them.

oOo

Regulus drowned in the taste of James's tongue in his mouth as they crashed against the closed door of the tour bus. James pressed his hands against the cold metal behind Regulus, trapping him. He clawed at James's chest as they kissed heatedly, his fingers latching into thin sleeves of his vest straps.

"On the bus," James breathed into Regulus's mouth. "My bunk."

"That bunk is under Sirius's," Regulus murmured back.

"Then we'll have to be _extra_ quiet." James grinned as he fumbled with the door. Regulus wondered absently if he would be able to keep extra quiet. He'd only been with one other guy before now, and already he was uncomfortably aroused.

He definitely didn't have as much experience in this field as James did.

James stepped into the bus ahead of Regulus, and beckoned for Regulus to follow him. Regulus didn't have a bunk with the rest of the band—instead he slept on the sofa in the living area of the tour bus. He found himself absently looking forward to spending the night in an actual bed.

As they reached the bunks, Regulus could see a moving, Sirius-and-Remus shaped lump in the top bunk that was over the one James slept in, and he cringed. "Can't we go into Remus's?" he whispered, nodding to the bunk across. Peter was nowhere to be seen; he was probably still lurking around in the bar, so they had a _little_ bit of privacy." He really didn't think he would be able to concentrate on James knowing that his brother was shagging his boyfriend just inches above him. He'd be able to feel the bed moving with everything Sirius was doing. And what if the bed fell through? He shuddered at the thought.

James shrugged and lifted the covers back of Remus's bunk. Regulus absently noted how neat the bedcovers were, how new and starched they seemed, like they'd never been slept in.

He almost mentally thumped himself as realisation set in. Of _course_ they hadn't. All this time Regulus had been tossing and turning on the sofa, and he could have slept in this bunk while Remus shared Sirius's.

"What're you just standing there for?" James murmured. "Get in."

Regulus didn't need to to be asked twice. James's voice was husky, and the way he stared through the dark at Regulus made something in his stomach quiver. He kicked off his shoes and pulled off his t-shirt, before climbing into the narrow bunk and scooting over to the wall, making room for James. James peeled off his vest and skinny jeans and threw his glasses onto the pile, before climbing onto the bed after him.

Someone sniggered in Sirius's bunk, followed by a loud "Shh!". Regulus closed his eyes, wishing he'd known what was going to happen earlier in the evening. He might have paid for a hotel.

"Peter?" came Remus's voice from the bunk. "Is that you?"

"It's James," James replied.

"Where's Regulus?" Sirius asked. His voice was strangely thick, and Regulus didn't want to know why.

"On the sofa," lied James swiftly. "He had too many lager-shandies."

Regulus resisted the urge to thump him as Remus and Sirius laughed. The bed creaked a little more as Sirius and Remus got comfortable.

After a few moments when they hoped that Remus and Sirius were drifting off to sleep, James moved in to kiss Regulus again, and Regulus forgot all about his embarrassing brother and his boyfriend. All he could think about in that moment were James Potter's lips on his, his tongue sliding across Regulus's, their torsos pressed together. James's hands moved deftly across Regulus's back, his palms sliding into the back of Regulus's jeans. "Why are you still wearing these?" His voice was barely a breath.

Regulus understood the unspoken request, and shifted to kick off his jeans and underwear. His body was covered with gooseflesh, and he was beginning to feel nervous and vulnerable under James's gaze. He tried to cover his arousal with his hands, but James pulled his arms away. He attached his lips to Regulus's neck, sucking softly on a sensitive spot, as his fingers danced towards his nether regions.

By the time James's hand reached its destination, Regulus was positively aching. Small whimpers escaped his lips as James touched him there, and he covered his mouth with his own.

"You seem nervous," James whispered. "What are you scared of?"

"That you're going to hurt me," Regulus whispered back, his breath shallow.

James grinned. "I will if you want me to."

"Not like that."

"I know what you mean," continued James, and he grasped Regulus's arousal with his hand as he kissed him deeply. "I'd never hurt you." He paused. "Sirius would probably kill me. But I promise that's not the only reason."

Regulus furrowed his brow. "Please don't talk about my brother while you've got my cock in your hand." He paused as James sniggered quietly. "I've only ever been with one other guy before now."

James kissed him again, though softer this time. His touch seemed gentler, as though he was suddenly more aware of being careful with Regulus. Relaxing considerably now he'd eased his concerns, Regulus leaned back into the bunk.

James rolled on top of him, his kisses growing deeper, needier. Regulus understood that need. He could feel James's stiffness grinding into his own under the blankets, and he resisted the urge to groan. If he really let himself go, he would probably meet his release already. He reached around and grasped at James's back with his fingernails greedily, trying to pull him ever closer.

"I need you," Regulus whispered into the hollow of James's neck. His voice was embarrassingly desperate and whiny, but James didn't seem to mind. He nodded feverishly, and leaned over Regulus to reach for something under the bunk; a bottle of something.

He popped the cap of the lubricant and shook some onto his hand. Regulus shifted on the mattress, feeling suddenly exposed once again, and gasped when James pushed his legs apart, and pressed his fingers into him.

"Tell me if it's too much," James whispered.

Regulus shook his head. "No. Keep going."

James moved his hand after a few moments, and he positioned himself between Regulus's legs. He grasped his own shaft and pushed himself against Regulus.

Regulus let out a long, shuddering breath as James slid into him slowly, inch by inch. James stifled a groan above him, and Regulus could tell he was fighting the urge to slam into him. He leaned closer to Regulus and buried his face in his neck, as he began to thrust steadily.

Regulus lolled his head back on the pillow, letting James clamp a hand over his mouth to mask his moans, giving in to the rapture.

oOo

"What the _hell?!"_

Regulus's eyes flickered open to the sound of the familiar voice. He was so comfortable, the most comfortable he had been in weeks, nestled into the crook of James's arm with his head on his chest. The last thing he wanted to see when he opened his eyes was his brother, standing by the bunk without a stitch of clothing on.

He immediately closed his eyes again. "Jesus Christ."

"You're going to need Jesus Christ," Sirius replied. He reached onto the bunk he'd been sharing with Remus and grabbed his underwear. When Regulus was sure he'd covered himself up, he opened his eyes again.

"Can you _go away?"_ Regulus hissed, wishing he could sink through the mattress.

Remus peered across the bunk at Sirius. "Did you have sex in my bed?" he asked, though he was grinning.

Regulus's face burned.

" _Did you have sex in that bed?"_ Sirius repeated, aghast.

"Of course we didn't," James replied before Regulus could. Regulus was unaware he was awake yet, but he supposed only the dead would sleep through Sirius going off on one of his rants. "We came back from the pub, got completely naked, and decided to share Remus's bed."

"You had sex in my bed," Remus chirped. He sounded weirdly impressed by this feat.

"You're not helping," Regulus murmured.

"This…" Sirius wagged a finger at James and Regulus, shaking his head firmly. "This didn't happen. I refuse to believe that you _tainted_ my innocent brother, Prongs." He continued to shake his head, as if he could shake the knowledge right out of his skull. "I'm going to the bathroom, and when I get back, you two won't be...naked." He turned around and stomped across to tour bus bathroom.

"So did you actually have sex in my bed?" Remus asked once Sirius was out of earshot. He was laid on his side, leaning on his hand.

"Oh, yes," James replied before Regulus could. He turned his head and pressed his lips chastely to Regulus's forehead. "We had excellent sex in your bed."

* * *

 _End_


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